


Reflection

by ceruleanshark



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Those tags shouldn't go together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 03:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13285896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleanshark/pseuds/ceruleanshark
Summary: Celebrimbor reflects on all he has lost to Sauron.





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't like how this turned out, but I'm going to put it out there anyway. All my angst feels awkward to me, but I'm trying to get better at it.

Mist rolled across the marshes, ruined columns jutting into the silver-gray sky like broken teeth. Dead trees stood in clumps, windbeaten branches thrust dramatically upwards into the sky. A lone figure wandered along the bank of the swiftly-moving creek, limned in blue light.

Celebrimbor's hair hung long and dark about his shoulders, contrasting with the elaborate silver filigree clip that held his bangs away from his pale face. His movements were slow and delicate as he walked towards an old marble building.

Most of the outside of the hall had been taken over by creeping vines and tangled shrubbery, but cracked white stone was still visible in some places. The former glory of the building was but a hazy memory, but it was one Celebrimbor clung to dearly.

He climbed the stone stairs that led up to the building and stepped through the vines hanging beside the empty doorframe. Red flowers stood out sharply from the mass of dull green leaves, bobbing slightly as they were disturbed by Celebrimbor's passing. 

The interior of the hall was empty, leaving the frame standing like a skeleton. Old scorch marks littered the cracked and tumbled walls. Celebrimbor paused briefly by the place where great furnaces had once burned. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the heat and the flicker of red and gold light on the walls. He had spent many an hour here, back in happier times.

The forge felt barren without the burning fires, ringing of metal on metal, and the company of his fellow smiths. Celebrimbor trailed one glowing hand over the faint remnants of a carving on the wall, unable to remember what it had once depicted. Muted fear flared in his chest over his faulty memory, but strangely he couldn't bring himself to care as much as he knew he once would have.

A hollow feeling swept through him and settled into the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes and recalled the last time he'd felt happy while visiting the ruins of his kingdom.

He remembered Gorlim's bright smile and friendly green eyes as he led Celebrimbor up the broken and cracked staircase, floating off the ground and clinging to Celebrimbor's smaller hand.

“Where are we going, my love?” Celebrimbor remembered his own voice, full of happiness and simple joy that he had lacked for so long. Gorlim's response had been a vague “You'll see”, but his eyes and tone had been loving.

Celebrimbor turned now to that same staircase. Had he and Gorlim really climbed it only a few weeks ago? It felt like centuries. He walked over to it and began to climb slowly, eyes closed and hand resting on the broken railing. He let himself slip back into his memories.

He and Gorlim had stepped out onto the side tower, the view of the broken kingdom sprawling out beyond the arched windows. Despite the haunting beauty of their surroundings, Celebrimbor had had eyes only for Gorlim.

The edain had kissed the elf, holding him close and pressing their lips together. Despite how cold both their bodies were, Celebrimbor had never felt as comfortable and loved as he did when Gorlim embraced him. Celebrimbor remembered pulling back from Gorlim and resting his head in the crook of Gorlim's neck.

“What is it you wanted to tell me?” Celebrimbor's voice was low and affectionate. Gorlim had kissed him lightly and ran one hand through his long hair, their blue auras mingling into one glow. “Celebrimbor, you have been the truest love I've ever known. You're beautiful, in every way possible. I love you more than anything, my darling Tyelpe.”

Celebrimbor had grinned then, eyes shining bright blue. Gorlim spoke once more. “Will you marry me, Celebrimbor? I know it's more symbolic than anything else, but--” 

Celebrimbor had cut him off with a kiss. “Of course, my love!” He could hardly believe it, he had been so happy. So eager to spend the rest of eternity with Gorlim.

All Celebrimbor felt now was hollow. He still loved Gorlim, but the edain was no longer there. Sauron had once more stolen away all that Celebrimbor held dear. His grief was like a shard of ice driven into his heart.

He drifted out onto the balcony, feeling cold despite the warm breeze that had begun to part the mists. The miles between he and Gorlim were many, but they diminished when faced with the impassable gap Sauron's spell had created. Gorlim was doomed to serve the Dark Lord for all time. And Celebrimbor was more alone and helpless than ever, even more so than when he'd first died.

Celebrimbor allowed himself to remember his happiness after the proposal, and how he'd felt when Gorlim held him close and kissed him or stroked his hair. Those were the only times he had felt warm, in spite of the fact that Gorlim's body was cold. For the first time in too long, he'd seen a future for himself amongst the ruins of Eregion.

As he gazed listlessly across the landscape, a burning rage was kindled within him. Now more than ever, he wanted Sauron to pay for stealing away Celebrimbor's life, work, home, and lover. The wraith touched the hilt of the curved dagger that had sliced off Gorlim's hand in Celebrimbor's last ditch attempt to save him from the ring’s corrupting influence.

The desire for revenge filled him until he could think of nothing else. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the angry and betrayed look on Gorlim's face, followed by Sauron's sneer as he and Gorlim left Celebrimbor alone in the ruins of Eregion.

Celebrimbor drew the knife and looked at his reflection in the blade. Though he looked the same as he had in his prime of life, bluish-white fire limned his face and danced across his hair, burning with his anger. He wanted nothing more than Sauron's death and suffering.

Then a thought struck him like an arrow. Gorlim would not have wanted Celebrimbor to be angry. He would have wanted the elf to stay compassionate and not give in to his pain. Celebrimbor could never end up like Feanor, paranoid and greedy and full of anger.

With a clatter, he hurled the dagger to the ground. It skidded across the stone floor. Celebrimbor bowed his head, glow of anger fading from him.

“I am so sorry, my love.” Celebrimbor whispered to the empty tower. Only the wind answered him, whistling through the archways. “One day I shall see Sauron defeated. Though we may never meet again, I will not forget you.” 

He would never forgive Sauron, but empty rage would not help. Celebrimbor would be patient. He would bide his time and wait to strike. And one day, he would ensure that Sauron suffered for all he had done to Celebrimbor.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews are always great!


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